


The Reaper's Cloth

by KarasuNei



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, M/M, Porn with Plot-ish, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 14:40:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8017972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarasuNei/pseuds/KarasuNei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of which Gabriel found out that he has a kink, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Reaper's Cloth

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr asked and I answered =w=  
> Loosely related to my [Occupational Hazard: Jacket](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7466283/chapters/17767972).

                The alarm woke Jack with a startle, decades of training took only a second to slice through the haze of sleep. Rolling out of bed into a crouch, he listened to the alert, steel muscles tensed. Winston’s voice was blaring through the speaker, but it wasn’t enough to drown out Gabriel’s annoyed grousing.

 

                Jack found a few ounces of sympathy for his lover since they just returned from a long mission the day before, but said sympathy immediately evaporated when he realised the asshole was just peering over the edge of the bed, blatantly giving Jack an appraising look. A long time ago, when his hair was still as golden as his heart, Jack would have been flustered. Now he was just grumpy. And a tiny bit amused.

 

                “Get dressed.” Jack huffed, pulling up his pants. Gabriel snorted at him, still lounging like a fucking king in all his naked glory. Noticing Jack’s lingering gaze, the bastard smirked and stretched luxuriously across their bed as if he was an oversized cat, thin trails of smoke drifting out lazily from the corner of his mouth.

 

                “Takes me two seconds. Besides, it is more entertaining to watch you fumble about.” He drawled, laughing when Jack tossed a shirt at his face.

 

                “Do us both a favour and go to Winston’s briefing, would you? I don’t think I can put up with his bitching on top of everything else.”

 

                As on cue, Winston’s voice thundered from the speaker again, but Gabriel didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he leered at Jack, thick eyebrows waggling, “On top, huh? What a choice of word…”

 

                “…Why are you like this?”

 

                Laughter erupted from the dark man as he ghosted around, gathering his discarded pile of clothing much more efficiently than Jack was. The old soldier didn’t even flinch when Gabriel smacked his ass, half-heartedly swinging a fist around that only managed to catch a few wisps of smoke. Gabriel dematerialised into a mass of shadow and rumbling chuckles, before reappearing in all his Reaper regalia.

 

                “See you downstairs, _sweet cheeks_.”

 

                He hollered in mad glee when Jack’s boot missed his head by an inch, disappearing behind the door. Goddamn it, Gabriel could be such a pain in the ass when he was in this kind of mood. Annoying piece of shit…but as exasperated Jack was about Gabriel’s behaviours, he couldn’t bring himself to hate it. It was much better than seeing his lover brooding, depressed or in any range of his usual terrible emotional spectrum. If Jack had to admit it, and he would _never_ admit this out loud, he would say it was kind of endearing in a way.

 

                But first, Jack needed to get himself properly clothed first. Curse Gabriel and the idiot’s tendency to toss everything off of him in a fucking whirlwind. At least Jack managed to get dressed under ten minutes, though for the life of him, he couldn’t find his jacket anywhere. Not under the bed or hanging over the chair, not the floor or even in the gun locker. Closet was a positive nope, and it was only until he skimmed over Gabriel’s neatly pressed row of coats that he remembered his own jacket was sent off to dry cleaning after the last mission.

 

                It was only a matter of seconds until Winston yelled again…

 

                Jack shrugged. Ah, fuck it. If Gabriel had an issue with Jack borrowing one of his precious, stupidly dramatic coats, the bastard could suck it up his ass. It was fucking cold outside, Jack wasn’t going to charge out without an extra layer if he could help it. He wasn’t the one impervious to weather here.

 

                So, without further ado, Jack slung on Gabriel’s spare, sweeping coat, finding it tight across the shoulders but slightly loose about his biceps and back. Nothing to complain about. Kind of reminded him of the ones he used to wear during Overwatch’s prime days. Clicking on his visor and grabbing his rifle, Jack rushed downstairs, swearing under his breath because he almost stepped onto the rustling fabric.

 

                Why the fuck did he ever wear something like this???

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

                Gabriel was sent off first with half of the squad. And the first thing he did upon seeing Jack was to swear. Loudly.

 

                Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck_.

 

                Jack was wearing his clothes. _His_ clothes.

 

                Okay, so the ridiculous yellow biotic emitters clashed a little with the rest of the theme, but Jack’s whole grey-black get-up underneath went damn well with the windswept coat. The red glare of the visor in darkness, the white crown of Jack’s hair only served to make him stand out more. Deadly and fucking regal if Gabriel had to say so himself. And _hot damn_ if Gabriel’s article of clothing didn’t just hug Jack in all the right places. Shoulders straight and taunt, trimmed waist caressed by open fabric and every shift of his legs were highlighted by the fluttering tail. It gave Jack the illusion of being embraced by the shadow, by _Gabriel_ , like they were phasing together, the only difference being Gabriel getting to spectate.

 

                Safe to say Gabriel was more than just a little dazed, when Jack landed nimbly after an impressive arching shot, the coat fanning out around him a perfect semi-circle. Almost immediately, the old soldier sprung up, muscles rolling with his every movement, and Gabriel knew he was _completely_ fucked.

 

                Problem was, Gabriel didn’t have to use too much of his imagination to know how Jack would look like wearing that coat of his and nothing else. Every plane of well-defined body was thoroughly explored, in many ways that shouldn’t be disclosed publicly. Gabriel knew every inch of glimmering pale skin, every scar on that body, every tender spot that would have Jack gasping under his touch…

 

                Gabriel wasn’t even remotely surprised when he got shot. He sure did curse rather colourfully and returned whoever the shooter was in kind, though the dulled, fizzled kind of pain his condition gave him wasn’t enough to fully distract Gabriel. And if he reaped the corpse a little more violently than usual, Lena didn’t comment on it. Instead, the former pilot had the gall to snicker at him, zipping away and back to take care of two more thugs that were sneaking about.

 

                Why the fuck were they here again? Gabriel didn’t really listen to Winston super hastened briefing and he sure as hell didn’t remember what the damn gorilla said now.

 

                Fuck Jack and his fucking sexy waist. All well-clad in Gabriel’s custom-made coat.

 

                In hindsight, the infamous Reaper should have paid more attention when he got shot the first time. But Jack was, and had always been, so fluid with his manoeuvre. The damned coat only served to accented the fact that no matter how tough the bulk it covered, Jack was made of mercury, graceful and somewhat sinister in his own way.

 

                Inevitably, Gabriel got shot a second time that night.

 

                This time, his guttural grunt didn’t escape Jack, who expressed concern through the comm in that smoky, rough voice. The already dulling pain unfortunately did nothing to the problem Gabriel was having down South. He grew agitated, snarling as his shotguns mercilessly tore through the torso of an unlucky, random bastard. Jack shrugged it off easily, knowing Gabriel tended to get aggravated if he was hit on the field, even though he did make the latter confirm that yes, he was indeed fine.

 

                “ _Gee, Gabe. Getting’ a bit rusty there. And you call_ me _old_.”

 

                Gabriel gritted his teeth at the drawn out teasing tone, the tightness of his pants getting difficult to ignore now, “Keep talking, _Golden Boy_ , and I’ll show you how many _classic_ ways you can use your mouth in the sheets.”

 

                There was a barrage of disgusted protests from the team along with Jack’s indignant snap. It did nothing to Gabriel’s vicious grin under his mask and Lena’s devilish, enthusiastic catcalls. A small victory, but it also reminded Gabriel painfully of his accursedly constricting pants. At least Jack was out of sight for the moment, which made Gabriel able to focus better even if marginally so.

 

                For a solid ten minutes.

 

                Gabriel felt rather than saw Jack’s presence, sudden and close to his side. If it was anyone else, Gabriel would have shot their face off and called it a day. But he knew Jack so well, to the point of being able to distinguish the old soldier’s boots crunching on gravel amidst the chaos. All the years together built into them the ability to fight alongside each other with little to no communication, fitting together like two pieces of puzzle effortlessly.

 

                It wasn’t the first time Gabriel had taken his mind off the blasting noises and shouting to admire the figure of his lover. As McCree had put it to words once, Gabriel enjoyed undressing Jack with his eyes no matter the time or place. After all, being a former SEP, ex-Blackwatch Commander and a wraith gave him the edge to afford minor distractions. A graze or two wasn’t going to make a difference, the team’s discomfort gave him even more entertainment.

 

                But today, with Jack wearing that fucking coat, the game changed completely.

 

                The edges of fabric, Gabriel’s and the one Jack was wearing, brushed at every movement they made. A dance, almost, of two people standing back to back, shifting in bone-deep coordination and dishing out death at every turn. Gabriel’s kind of dance, and they even dressed accordingly. Thank fuck Jack wasn’t a mouthy one, not outside of the bedroom anyway, otherwise Gabriel’s legendary discipline would snap in a matter of seconds. Took every ounce of will to remember pulling the trigger instead of gawking at Jack like some kind of thirsty wolf, even then Gabriel couldn’t bother too much with accuracy. Not that it mattered, his Hellfire often left nothing behind to salvage anyway. It gave him a bigger of a gap to glance at Jack’s protean form, enhanced into a near ethereal shadow under the moonlight.

 

                Luck wasn’t on his side today, however.

 

                The third bullet hit Gabriel square in the chest, definitely broke something and missed his heart just by a few inches. Briefly, he heard Jack shouted out to him, muffled against the sudden, searing pain, which was immediately dulled by the swirling mass of his body.

 

                If Gabriel was frustrated before, he was _livid_ now.

 

                Descending upon the shooter like a bat out of hell, Gabriel clawed at the nameless face with his talons, digging out flesh and bones alike as he reaped without killing the asshole. Screams were muted under his smoke and Gabriel forcefully yanked out whatever was left of the gunman’s life force to replenish his wound. Yet, he didn’t stop there.

 

                Teleporting to a stunned Jack, Gabriel wound both arms around his lover, growling incoherently into a metal clad ear. They blinked out of existence in a hissing whirlwind of smog, leaving behind shocked and mostly exasperated comrades.

 

                “What the fuck, Reyes?!” Jack snapped at him the moment they rematerialized, coughing out a mouthful of Gabriel’s sizzling smoke. Normally, the latter would have been more concerned about this and possibly beat himself over it a little, but Gabriel was too far gone at this point and Jack sprawling beneath him, legs wide open atop the black coat only served to drive him madder with lust. He ripped off both his mask and Jack’s visor at the same time, diving down to crush their mouths together. Jack punched him in the gut, making Gabriel grunt but his hands were already working on tugging off Jack’s pants. Snarling, Jack bit his lip, hard, enough for Gabriel to lift himself up a little. A trail of black blood trickled down the side of his mouth, but Gabriel grinned. The blue of Jack’s eyes only served to stir his interest more.

 

                “What.the. _fuck_ , Reyes?!” Jack repeated, _demanded_ , every word punctured with a jab to his ribs. The old soldier was pissed, strength was packed in every blow, but Gabriel could barely feel it, “What the fuck are you doing?! I thought SEP curbed that horny teenager phase of yours!”

 

                “Clothes off. _Now_.” Gabriel ignored Jack’s molten glare, rasping as his eyes roamed hungrily over taunt body. There was a frozen moment, almost a full minute, when Gabriel was sure Jack would punch him out of consciousness or knee in in the balls, the latter might work better, but then blue eyes suddenly narrowed.

 

                Gabriel scowled. Jack _smirked_.

 

                “It’s the coat, isn’t it?”

 

                “ _Morrison, I swear to God_ if you don’t-…”

 

                To his surprise, Jack actually lay back, bracing his knees a bit wider, and aimed a sultry half-smile at Gabriel. And damn it if Gabriel’s cock didn’t jump at the sight before him.

 

                “Who would have thought, out of all the weird, edgy, kinky shit out there, Gabriel Reyes can’t keep it in his pants just because of _a dumb coat_.”

 

                Gabriel growled. Fuck Jack and his smart little mouth.

 

                Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea.

 

                With a swift movement, he had both Jack’s wrists pinned above snow-white hair, narrowly avoiding a head-butt, and purred into the old soldier’s ear, “Never too late to experiment.”

 

                He couldn’t see it, but Gabriel was ninety-percent sure Jack rolled his eyes, “And here I thought you were insufferable earlier…”

 

                Gabriel couldn’t help it. Chuckles, mirthful and just a tad childish rolled out of his chest, vibrating against Jack’s own. They pulled out a few huffs from Jack, curling up the corners of his scarred mouth that Gabriel just had to kiss. Gentler and less hurried, he rubbed into Jack’s wrists as best as he could with their hands still fully clad in gloves. However, soon enough, the noises turned dark and sinful, kisses were accompanied with nips and licks. Gabriel ground into Jack, feeling the pressure building up between them.

 

                “Make it quick. Team’s waiting.” Jack voice was steady, or at least he tried to keep it that way. Gabriel could hear the crack, the slightest note of underlying breathlessness. And he smirked, nuzzling against a perfect jawline.

 

                “Pretty sure they are happier with us gone.”

 

                Jack scoffed, too stubborn to arch into Gabriel’s touch even though his skin was quivering a little, “And whose fault is that?”

 

                “Your terrible and wonderful decision of putting _this_ on tonight.”

 

                “Jesus, you really should keep your mouth shut and stick to the good stuff.”

 

                Gabriel’s chest rumbled, his voice dropping a few more octaves as he sucked in Jack’s earlobe, “ _Sí, Comandante Morrison_.”

 

                After that point, Gabriel wasn’t sure how he managed to strip Jack without taking off the coat at all. There was a torn open shirt, though, and he remembered Jack growling at him about getting a new one, but Gabriel couldn’t give a flying shit even if he had to buy Jack an entire wardrobe afterwards. Seeing Jack naked, flustered in the cold and clad only in his coat made Gabriel marvel at how he hadn’t cum yet.

 

                Preparation was quick and clumsy, Jack was still pliant since their earlier rounds and that alone made Gabriel impossibly harder, knowing that his lover was fighting in _his_ clothes, loose from _his cock_ and still managed to be such a badass was more of a thrill than he wanted to admit. All Gabriel cared about was that they needed to do this more often and he would gladly throw Jack’s poorly designed leather jacket into the nearest wood chipper for that. Looking at him, skin pale and glistened with sweat and scars, a stark contrast against the inky fabric, Gabriel thanked all Gods known and unknown for driving Jack into wearing this.

 

                Gabriel barely had the time to free his throbbing shaft before he had to dive into Jack’s blistering heat. His thrusts were animalistic, slightly out of rhythm and he was stroking every inch of sculpted muscles he could reach. There was a thrill in this too, being fully-clothed and fucking into Jack, who was furthest from the definition of decency right then. Jack writhed and thrashed, unabashed moans keening into the night, body tangled in the coat and cock rutting against Gabriel’s armour. His chest curved deliciously, nipples rubbing into hard little nubs against the fabric, shotgun shells and the cold air. White hair matted down between strained arms, his hands scrabbling against Gabriel’s one that held them imprisoned, and he met every of Gabriel’s thrust with a snap of his hips.

 

                Heat pooled in his belly and Gabriel knew he wasn’t going to last long. So he slowed, heaving them both up to a sitting position and let go of Jack’s wrists, only to fist at the neglected erection instead, thumbing the wet slit that tore out a shout from Jack’s throat. His other hand weaved itself between Jack’s skin and the coat, kneading at the muscles he found there and his teeth latched onto Jack’s collarbone, sucking and biting as he picked up the pace once more. Jack bounced in his lap, moaning in abandonment, the coat fluttered in rolling dark waves around them.

 

                Despite his efforts, Gabriel hit his limit first, snarling into Jack’s chest as the orgasm crashed like his own shotguns, leaving him shivering in the aftermath and growling when Jack continued to fuck himself into completion. Streaks of white painted against black armour and Jack crumpled, ankles hooking behind the small of Gabriel’s back and his face cradled against the crook of his lover’s neck.

 

                It took several moments for them to come off the high, though neither wanted to move, and Gabriel found it just a tad comical, having post-coital cuddle in the middle of nowhere like this. But he was content, just like he was before Winston decided to rip them both out bed. Maybe this incident would teach the gorilla to never push them into a mission so damn close to the previous one.

 

                And if Gabriel had to put up with Lena’s teasing and the others’ baleful glares for the next couple of weeks, he couldn’t give a fuck. Because sometimes, when he returned from a particularly long mission, he would find Jack in their room, sprawled out on their bed with nothing on but his coat.

**Author's Note:**

> Visit my Tumblr for more Blizz trash: [Nei Karasu](http://neikarasu.tumblr.com/)


End file.
